


I've Seen Your Worst

by Dreamwalker44



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: But not really Dead dead, Evil Morty is hard to write, Evil Rick is dead inside, I really did, I tried my best at plot, In which angst is applied, Mind Manipulation, We have Rick Games instead of Morty Games, Welcome to the Angst Party, blood is shed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26359564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamwalker44/pseuds/Dreamwalker44
Summary: Sometimes he'll have time to go down to the labs, go even further down to reach that room with the tight locks and security pass code. He'll type in the correct pass code and find himself entering with an easy grin on his face.Because there he'll find his Rick.And Morty was looking forward to fixing something tonight.
Relationships: Evil Morty & Evil Rick (Rick and Morty), Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	I've Seen Your Worst

**Author's Note:**

> \-- This takes place after Tales From the Citadel.

~~~~~ 0 ~~~~~

"Do you know how many Ricks I've killed today?"

His question trails off the room, followed by a short pause and then he's back to tinkering with a few devices again, not minding the silence at all.

No answer. He expected as much.

He lets out a small breath, laxing his knowing smile at the body splayed on top of the work table. He knows the other couldn't hear him so he continues to work aligning the last of the wires to the machine.

"Twelve." He says after a few screws in, finally attaching everything to the mainframe.

He's finished. Good.

"But I made them kill their Mortys beforehand which makes the kill count rise to twenty-four so..."

He stands, walking to switch off the lights. When the room dims, leaving only the lamp at the center to light his way, he walks back to switch on his newest project.

A hum of a machine fills in the silence of the room and a beam of blue light emerges. It works. The blue hologram lights up and he's faced with a tall, sullen-looking figure staring back at him. Confused.

Morty smiles at the hologram.

"Today's a new record." 

"...."

No answer.

He figured as much.

The processor probably needed some more recalibrating for speech to work, just a few more tweaks and he'll probably get the man to talk. But it meant having to reinstall the optics again and reposition the lasers, taking apart mostly everything and making sure they synched well and...

And it was pretty late.

He had a busy schedule tomorrow. Heck, he always had a busy schedule. Yet still he found time to come down here whenever he wanted to tinker with old machinery and...

And for what?

The old man's probably thinking, wondering, hacking his spectral brain away. 

So Morty looks up at the projected figure of his grandfather, noting the small details the hologram emitted that resembled emotion. How the unibrow was casted downward, eyes narrowed and sharp, and that permanent frown with the scar at the edge...

Yeah, this was his Rick, resurrected once again by his hand and staring twice as hard at him, clearly looking displeased over his reawakening.

A look full of hate.

Morty kept his smile sweet, bitterly so, turning towards the exit with a dismissive wave.

"Welcome back Rick." Is all he said, the door clicking shut behind him as several locks clicked in place, leaving behind the lone hologram that clearly mouthed 'fuck' once all the lights turned off.

~~0~~

It wasn't often a light knocking on his door roused him to fully wake from sleep. Even so, Morty wasn't used to being woken up by anyone, let alone by a Rick who he now sees entering the room without his permission. Ah, yes, a clueless rookie. Probably one of the newer guards that replaced D-88 and 89.

They were part of yesterday's kill count after all and Morty couldn’t help but smirk a little at the memory of executing the last of the rouges who dared defy him.

So he decides to settle for this rookie in the meantime.

Sitting up and checking the clock on his nightstand, Morty internally winces as he saw the time. Ten to eight, he should probably get dressed by now.

Standing and heading towards his armoire in the corner, he takes a glance behind him to look at the new manservant of the week... day? Hour? Heck, he doesn't know.

Turning fully, he saw that the man was bearing a tray of breakfast, it's smell drifting around the room quite pleasantly and thus making him a bit hungry.

"Just leave it on the table. I'll call you when I'm ready." He orders, absentmindedly picking a set of clothes from his wardrobe. Hm... black dress shirt and red tie. He'll go with the usual.

Just as he hears the small clang of the tray landing on top of the table, there was a slight pause yet the sound of exiting footsteps didn't follow. How peculiar.

"Would you like me to prepare the bath, sir?" The Rick asks Morty and the boy couldn't help but blink at the question.

Very peculiar indeed...

He turns to finally look at the man in the eye, noting the strange expression on the Rick's face. He noticed less irritation there, more of an actual interest in tending to his needs, not at all intimidated or resentful... just dutiful.

The observation almost made Morty laugh out loud but he settled with a small smile instead.

"Second door to your right. Leave it half full." He says, gathering his chosen clothes to hang them by the floor mirror.

"Right. Won't take long, sir."

He sees the Rick disappear into the corner, the door to the bathroom being opened and then the distant sound of running water could be heard.

With this Morty soon follows him into the room, closing the door behind him as he undresses and slowly dips into the bath. The new manservant stays close by, a robe and a towel in hand as he waits patiently for Morty to finish.

~~0~~

The two of them were walking in a relatively clear hallway that morning, the ground floor to the teleportation room devoid of any counterparts of the like. It was early morning and a weekend so not many Ricks were up to work this time around the building, or any establishment for that matter.

So it was just the brisk, quiet steps padding across grey marble floors until Morty decided to make small talk with the Rick who he noticed was keeping his pace rather slow.

Behind him.

Hm...

"I'm guessing you're from the S Dimension, the ones labeled as Sine Mortis I believe?"

"... sir?"

The younger didn't really make his statement much of a question. Given his immense knowledge of Ricks, he basically knew them to a principle like how he knew about Mortys like the back of his hand. If anything, he was sure this Rick belonged there.

Yet still, he thought better to ask.

"Er... it was Dimension S-β9 sir. You're correct."

They were about halfway through the corridor now, their pace not slowing or picking up speed. It was odd how this too felt a bit off for Morty. The slow, secure steps that remained a few paces behind him just felt out of place. He wasn't used to being shadowed like this, more used to steps that would drift a bit closerㅡ placed more to his right.

Beside him.

But behind and simply following his lead so freely...

How odd.

"So that's why you went to the Citadel. You'd get yourself assigned to a Morty." He continues to say/question.

"Yes... at first." Came the hesitant reply, the Rick's voice soft and coming a bit echoey in the corridor.

"But there was some complications and I..." The older man trails off and Morty could sense the shift right away. Steps came closer. They were now side by side as they walked. Morty gives a short glance to his right, not at all surprised to see a far off look from the man.

"I lost him."

The boy opens his mouth to tell him it's fine to leave it at that because he didn't want to hear about a Rick's past, he didn't want to hear about other Mortys.

But the Rick continues on, seemingly lost in thought as they walked.

"After that I just couldn't let it happen again so I went back to training. A few months in and they said I was ready to go back to the field." He pauses, seeming to be coming back from the memory as he straightened his posture.

"Then there was the promotion and..."

"And now you're here." Morty cuts in blatantly, intending to end the conversation as if nothing dark was said and recounted.

"Now you're assigned to the president. Isn't that swell."

The Rick makes an amused sound at that, finally looking at the boy beside him with this... this expression Morty can't help but describe as something brimming with... purpose.

With passion.

"Quite swell, sir." The Rick answers in gusto, the rest of their trip falling silent as they reached the central room with the portal reactor.

~~.. 0 ..~~

"Set the coordinates to Λ-031 119 Π-66° Θ-7 099."

"All systems locked. Preparing G-portal in 3... 2...1...

"We are approaching the Nexūs."

~~.. 0 ..~~

He pauses momentarily as soon as he opens the door because he is met with a dozen pairs of eyes, all flickering and static-y in blue light as they land their detested gazes at the boy.

Morty closes the door behind him, walking straight towards the crowd of Rick clones, totally unbothered by the sight.

"So you've learned about cognitive projection. You must've been so bored." He tilts his head to look left and right, eyeing all the Ricks with a look of challenge, daring them to try something. "I'm guessing, what? You projected killing me in my sleep? Stabbed me about a thousand times until you weren't satisfied enough?"

All the clones vanish through a haze of static, leaving only one Rick to stand at the center of the room, arms crossed and scowling at the boy with renewed fervor.

"I guessed right then."

A mouthed 'fuck you' was his only reply and Morty smirks in victory. He remembered now why he keeps on coming here. To have his fun. And right now he'd be lying if he said seeing the hologram fuss and fume over him with clear hate in it's eyes wasn't satisfying.

Because at least with the hologram it felt more right, felt more deserving.

"You know, I planned on coming down here sooner but my busy schedule said otherwise." Morty says, sitting himself on a tall stool in front of a large desk where the hologram stood by. He props both of his elbows on the desk, resting his hands under his chin to appear like he was about to tell the man a little secret.

The two did not break eye contact.

"My seat into presidency requires me to attend a lot of meetings, Rick. And it just so happens one of them was about finalizing an event happening in a few weeks."

He puts one arm down to play with an unused wire, making spiraling shapes with his finger as he twirled it.

Around and around. 

He wasn't looking at the hologram now but he can still feel those eyes on him, anticipating his every move.

"It's called the Rick Games." He says just before the silence stretched out for too long. And he looks up, meeting eyes with the hologram who gave the slightest flinch... of sorts, glitching suddenly but remaining poker-faced as he awaited Morty's next words.

The boy smiles, tilting his head closer to the man. "The rules are simple: You win when you defeat all the trainer's Ricks."

Static blue eyes narrow, and his smile widens upon seeing that look.

Sweet anger.

"Kill them if you have to."

~~0~~

He remains seated on the leather armchair, facing the tall glass window as he awaits the room to be empty of Ricks, the lot of them still bickering about the meeting's topic at handㅡ the Rick Games.

He expected some light debating once everyone got up from their seats but from the sound of it, the board members were parading with a certain enthusiasm only a Rick could make from scheming the diabolical.

"... get our money's worth by the weekend... the vaults would be flooded by then..." 

"... more than enough to expand the Citadel. Fucking perfect."

Morty inclines closer to the soft cushions, releasing a small sigh as soon as the double doors closed shut, the last of the gruff voices and burping sounds fading into blissful silence.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

.....

... _"hem_."

He hears a throat clear in the background.

...

"Shall I escort you to your quarters, sir?" The voice asks from a corner in the room and Morty stops himself from releasing yet another sigh.

"You look a bit exhausted."

...

Right. He almost forgot about the bodyguard.

Morty turns the swivel chair to his right and makes to stand in front of the window, looking out with a contemplative expression. He eyes the view in front of him, trying to distract himself momentarily as he trails the large vessels parked near the transport area where all the other ships flew by in lapses.

From the reflection on the glass panel he senses movement, now aware of the presence standing closer behind him. Morty tilts his head to the side, his face unreadable as he stared back at those wide blue eyes that patiently awaited a response. He was growing tired of looking at a Rick's face all day, especially with the meeting that occurred, but this one was just too... different.

He can't help but notice how there was less tension on this man's face, less of that bleakness surrounding most Ricks that made them appear much older and morose. Instead it's replaced with this resigned, almost diligent appearance of a man whose more... put together, composed.

To some degree it, catches Morty's attention.

...

"I still have some paperwork to do." He answers flatly after a beat of silence. "I'll retire to my quarters once I'm finished. You can wait around till then."

The Rick blinks up at his statement, looking like he was about to retort to that but instead just affixes a smile on his face, giving Morty a knowing look as if he knew the boy would be the type to turn down an early break. 

Morty turns his head back to the window, hands a little tense behind him. He was done looking at that face, those eyes.

"I'll go make us some tea." He suddenly hears the older man say, voice now drifting farther from him, closer to the door. Morty doesn't get to reply as the Rick continues.

"Would you like me to add some sugar, sir?"

...

Would he like him to add some sugar...

.....

He doesn't look back as he keeps his eyes trailed on the ships outside, sight glued forward, never wavering.

"I'd prefer honey." He finds himself answering... which... surprised him... it almost sounded like a whisper. He mentally curses but he's sure the older man had heard anyway so...

The Rick hums at that, saying he'll be right back with some snacks as well, leaving the boy to idly stand by the window, his expression ever thoughtful but bemused.

Maybe he'll drink some tea and then work on those papers.

.....

Morty releases the sigh he didn't know he was holding.

.

~ 0 ~

.

Pen scribbling, page turning, a sip of tea, eating a wafer, passing a stack of papers, repeat.

It's strange how everything would fall into rhythm at some point, Morty muses to himself as he scanned a request form and promptly marking denied. He sets it aside on the desk as another set of hands gathered them to be sorted with, putting everything in it's respective file and envelope as soon as he laid them there.

It's a peaceful workflow between him and the Rick and it almost makes him laugh because there must be something here he'd missed, something to exploit. He's sure he'd find it anyway as he always does with every Rick he's encountered, dead or alive. So he takes a sip of his black tea with honey, settling the cup back on the saucer as he retrieves yet another stack load.

"I'm curious." He says. "How is a speech about bloodshed started?"

The way he asked it so casually must've thrown the man off because he doesn't get an immediate response, just a slight twitch.

And it's enough of a start so he continues, grabbing the next set of papers from the pile.

"Should a speaker smile because the audience looks forward to it? Or would a mournful look tie nicely with the event?"

The room grows cold as several seconds tick by, tension building up and breaking the workflow they've adapted. Morty almost considered answering it himself when the Rick cuts him off.

"Smiling could mean a lot of things, sir." He starts slowly, sounding thoughtful as he continued to arrange documents.

"You could smile and still look sullen orㅡ or mournful if the situation...." He trails off to find the right words. "Called for it."

And the silence stretches on upon that statement. The Rick took it as a sign to continue, resealing an envelope and several more files on the desk. "I just think any speech can start off with a smile given how versatile it is, sir."

Morty looks up at the man, intertwines his fingers together and rests his chin on them.

He smiles.

"So you're saying I should look like this once I deliver the opening speech for the Games?"

Something clicks in the man's expression, prompting him to pause whatever it is he was doing and then swallowing hard, looking more confused despite his best efforts to mask it.

Morty revels at the expression.

"Er... I-it's clearly possible." The Rick blurts out almost immediately when he sees Morty's smile widen a bit. "Youㅡ you're free to do so, sir. No one is stopping you."

He says nothing more after that, letting the room fill up with even more tension as he waits for the president's response. 

"No one's stopping me..." The boy repeats to himself after a moment's silence, sounding slightly amused as he looked up at the man once more.

"Not even you, Rick β9?"

"..."

And the Rick doesn't answer, doesn't understand. Morty simply leans closer, hands still tucked under his chin as he asked his final question.

"What do you really think of the Games?"

* * *

_To be continued..._


End file.
